


Oh, There’s No Place Like A Billet for the Holidays

by MisconductandMimosas



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Junior Hockey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisconductandMimosas/pseuds/MisconductandMimosas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent really wanted to hate Jack Zimmermann.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, There’s No Place Like A Billet for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Part of The 34 Days Challenge for the Week One theme: Before the Draft, which I took as literally anytime before the draft instead of 34 days because my reading comprehension is at an all-time-low oops.
> 
> Warnings: Allusions to Kent's not-great home life but nothing specific

“Zimmermann? What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

Jack was supposed to be back in Montreal. Kent knew that. Their entire team knew that Jack spent Christmas in Montreal with his family and a few of his father’s closest famous friends. That’s how it had been since he was a toddler and the only reason their whole juniors team knew it certainly wasn’t because Jack bragged about it- it was because it had been covered by the media- numerous times. 

 

“You said the Reys were going away for Christmas.” Jack looked at him like he had been surprised to find that Kent was actually there. Like he had been hoping to find an empty house. 

 

“Yeah…” Kent was mostly just grateful that the Reys trusted him enough to stay in their house by himself. They weren’t getting anything extra for their random act of kindness. It was nice to be trusted like that. It had him thinking about what it would be like when he was in the NHL with his own place. Freedom to not worry about doing the dishes right away or watching the television with the volume up a little louder than most people liked it. The little things.

 

Although, he hadn’t been expecting company. 

 

If he had known his captain was going to show up at his billet on Christmas Eve, Kent wouldn’t be wearing his softest sleep pants with a hoodie that used to belong to his older brother. 

 

Or maybe he would have. He’d probably take comfort over impressing Zimmermann. He was pretty sure that’s why Jack liked hanging around him so much. Kent added a warm feeling in his stomach to the list of things he was ignoring. 

 

“I thought you were going to be gone too,” Jack prodded. He was still standing in the doorway. Kent stepped aside and let him in. It wouldn’t do to let Canada’s golden boy freeze.

 

“What billets take their hockey player with them on their Christmas holiday?” Kent asked curiously.

 

“I don’t know. Some. You’re not home though either.” There was a question there that Kent wasn’t going to answer. 

 

Or really- Kent didn’t know how to answer that. No, he wasn’t home. He wasn’t sure if he had one anymore but- no one really knew that. It was- no one really knew that. He had an aunt he could stay with if he needed to but he was mostly using her basement to store a four small boxes of things he thought he’d need. He had mentioned off-hand that he was staying in the area for the holidays to someone- was it Phil? Nick? Regardless, it had found its way to their captain.

 

Kent wanted to hate Jack Zimmermann. He had a perfect life. Well, supposedly. Kent could see through Jack and he knew there was more going on there but Jack didn’t offer anything and Kent was in the habit of just taking what was given to him. He had too much to lose otherwise. He had already lost enough.

 

“No, I’m not,” Kent said with such firmness, hoping Jack would just _get it_ and leave it be. It didn’t work.

 

“I’m the captain! You’re my-“ Jack cut himself off. Thank god. Kent wasn’t sure either of them were ready for that discussion. If ever. “You’re my A,” he landed on. “And my friend, You’re supposed to tell me these things.”

 

It took a lot of self-control to Kent not to ask if they really were friends or if they were more like coworkers who sometimes kissed in the supply closet. Except their supply closet was full of stick tape and extra gloves instead of post-it notes and reams of paper. 

 

“You’re supposed to be in Montreal,” Kent reminded him. 

 

“It’s Christmas,” Jack countered, looking at Kent like he had a concussion. Which- was ridiculous. Jack was the one with a home to go to on Christmas, Kent was just a queer hockey player whose parents wanted nothing to do with. Which Kent was fine with- he was- he didn’t visit them and they kept their mouth shut whenever a reporter came around. It was fine. Kent was fine.

 

“I know that.” Kent did a cursory glance around the front hallway. The Reys had decorated a bit for the holiday but there was no need for a tree if you were going to be waking up in the Bahamas on the 25th of December. 

 

“You…you shouldn’t be alone at Christmas, Kenny.” Jack was looking down down. Kent hoped he was looking at the Rey’s nice hardwood floors and not Kent’s socks. They were monstrosities- too fuzzy and his toes were curled around worn parts of the fabric. 

 

“It’s not by choice,” Kent said, fierce and quiet.

 

“I know,” Jack told him, so calm that Kent wanted to hit something.

 

They still weren’t looking at one another. 

 

“I am going to order some pizza,” Kent offered with a sigh. “Come on, one of the local stations is running a claymation Christmas marathon.” He knew his captain; Jack was stubborn as fuck. So was Kent- he wasn’t sure how they managed to balance it out. But- Jack wasn’t going anywhere and Kent sure as fuck wasn’t going to Montreal.

 

Kent really wanted to hate Jack Zimmermann. Later, after they had demolished two pizzas and a shared order of mozzarella fries, he had his head on Jack’s stomach and their fingers were tangled together. Jack had one leg completely off the couch. Kent wasn’t sure how that was comfortable but Jack hadn’t complained about it or the weight of Kent draped over most of his lower body.

 

This was what Kent wanted when he did finally get his own house. The safety and warmth of just being with someone who cared. He wasn’t sure if Jack was awake or not, so Kent just closed his eyes tightly and tried to think about how what he was doing was the exact opposite of hating Jack Zimmermann.

 


End file.
